


one hand, freely offered

by weaselett



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Numb3rs
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-22 16:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11971542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weaselett/pseuds/weaselett
Summary: A friendship over the years, in things shared and offered.





	1. Five

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afinch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afinch/gifts).



> Starts pre series for both, and runs to S12 of Criminal Minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon ships feature, and there are mentions of other characters but mostly just Megan and Aaron being bros. Covers Megan's Numb3rs run, and this chapter covers up to season eight CM.   
> Chapter two is the aftermath of Hotch's season 12 plot, and therefore separate in case of spoilers.

They toast, surrounded by darkness, the blinds all closed tight, hiding their illicit activity. 

As acts of defiance go, it's a small one, but better safe than sorry. They both value their jobs too much to risk it, even late at night. 

“I can't believe you smuggled champagne into Quantico.” Aaron holds out his mug for a refill, top button undone, tie discarded on his desk top. 

Megan grins, “It wasn't exactly hard Hotchner, and it's not like anyone would have stopped me, if they'd seen it and I'd said why.” She raises her eyebrows meaningfully, tilting her head to one side. 

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head, cheeks just a little red, “It's not common knowledge yet.” She knows that, and understands why, but she just grins in reply. 

They fall silent, each nursing their mug of celebratory drink, the emptiness of the rest of the offices around them oddly soothing. No people, no urgent work, no immediate threat. 

Megan had called ahead to make sure of that. The Washington field office might be calm, but that didn't mean Hotch's BAU unit was as well. They had the whole of the US to worry about after all. 

“I have no idea what to do with a baby.” Aaron says, into the silence, and Megan can't help but laugh, almost spilling her drink.

“You were how old when Sean was born?” She queries, shaking her hair out of her face so she can see his face clearly.

“I was a teenager, with no interest in babies.” Aaron replies shaking his head. “We've talked about it, and obviously we were trying, but....”

“Reality bites.” Megan says, shifting to kick off her boots, already undone, before curling up on the couch. 

Aaron takes a careful drink, gaze fixed on the wall behind her, “It's harder, with the timing.”

She winces, nodding, “Yeah, though also not a surprise, because of the timing.” She laughs when he glares, “Come on Aaron, we both know human nature...” 

“We both know psychology.” He half corrects, then waves her off when she opens her mouth to reply, “I know, it's just, a lot.”

“You've got another six months.” She says.

“I might be unit chief by then.” His voice is quiet, tense, and she frowns. 

“You aren't surprised that they'd want you to take over from Gideon?” She's careful, almost as tense as he is, the ground more uneven than she'd expected. 

He sighs, swirling the liquid in his mug for a long moment, “No, I just, I don't think Jason's done yet.”

Megan chews on her lip, considering. Gideon might have trained her, like so many others, but he's not her friend, not in the same way as Hotch. Sometimes she thinks it's a bonus, better perspective, other times she wishes she felt the same level of faith in him as the others. It would easier to not see how easily the man could take the wrong path. Harder to see how broken he has become, after this last blow. 

She takes her time, weighs up her options, “You do deserve it.”

He flinches, just a little, eyes widening ever so slightly. “Megan, that's not...”

She shakes her head, raising a hand, “It's a part of it Hotch, truth is, out of the people left, you are the best choice. Even if he comes back, do you really think he's going to want all the responsibility?”

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb, “Do you really think, if he comes back, he'll be able to help himself?”

She closes her eyes, sagging back into the couch. One hell of a rock and a hard place, “Promise me, you'll be careful.” She doesn't know why she says it, knows it's not the best thing to say, but she's lost two friends, she can't face losing another. 

“You know I will, especially now,” He raises his mug meaningfully in a toast, trying to lift the tension and she forces herself to relax. To remember why she'd made the trip across town. 

“You do have the best reason to be, all going well.” Her sisters have already trained her on this, nothing is certain until you're holding the baby, and even then it can still get interesting. 

He watches her even as he takes a long drink, only to close his eyes when he coughs a little and wincing, too much too fast. She can't help but laugh, neither of them are champagne drinkers really. “What about you?” He manages, after a moment and she narrows her eyes. 

“You know I'm not looking to be a BAU agent,” She answers, “I'm a profiler, but I'm a field agent.”

He opens his mouth to argue, then shakes his head, “I know, we've had this conversation before, it's just....”

Megan offers a faint smile, “I know...you're going to have to look elsewhere. Those aren't holes I want to fill.” 

He nods, offering a rueful smile, “Can't blame me for trying.”

Megan smiles easily, shaking her head before leaning back, stretching out full length on the couch, and contemplating the ceiling for a long moment before she speaks, “And, I don't want to stay in Washington my whole career.”

“I can understand that, I think the time in Seattle, it helped give me a little more perspective, after a few years in all of this.” He waves a hand at their surroundings. "I got to escape the teachers, find my own way." 

She nods, “And it got you the swanky office upon your return.”

He laughs, a real laugh, “I don't miss the bullpen, even if it does feel like all eyes are on me some days.”

She grins, “I'll bet.”

-

The phone rings and he knows it isn't Haley. Gone are the days when she would ring him when he was away, these days it's always him who calls. Too many calls cut short because of work, it wasn't doing either of them any good. And she wanted their son to always hear his voice, never empty promises. 

He always answers his phone, he just doesn't always have time for personal when he's on a job. Doesn't often want to mix the personal with the job. The last thing he wants is to hear his son's laugh as he stands mere feet away from a dead body. 

He hesitates for a moment before he picks up the phone, hoping it isn't bad news, and avoiding the screen to keep the hope alive for just a moment longer.

“Hotchner.” 

“I met the infamous Professor Eppes.” Megan sounds tired, but amused, and he relaxes in his chair, flipping the folder in front of him closed. 

“Does he live up to the rumours?” He asks.

“More or less, though honestly, I didn't get the best first impression.” Megan replies and he can hear the sound of metal against china. 

“We get that with Reid, especially when he info dumps.” He says, reaching for his own cup of tea, thankful that this is one of the cases where there are enough rooms available to not have to share. He doesn't need them gossiping about him taking a late night call from a woman who isn't Haley.

Her laugh crackles a little over the speaker, “To be honest, that's why I called. I wanted to ask what Doctor Reid is actually like to work with.”

Aaron frowns, considering, “He's bright, quick, but he's still finding his feet. It's different though, he's a trained FBI agent, even with the things Jason had waved, he's not an academic.”

“That just means he's not used to teaching.” Megan comments, in a way that speaks volumes about her interactions with Eppes. He remembers the stories Don would tell, on occasion, about his genius brother, when they training. It's strange to think the kid's a professor now, and working for the FBI.

“Driving you crazy?”

“I thought it would, but all the maths speak, the metaphorical stuff helps a lot, with visualising.” She's hedging a little, but she wouldn't do that if she wasn't already attached and he can't help but smile.

“You like him.” It sounds like a school yard comment, but he really couldn't care less. They both know what he really means.

“I guess, it's not just him, he has two colleagues as well, it's a good team, it works really well.” She's certain, but reluctant. “And you are so profiling me right now.”

He laughs, “I can't help it any more than you can Megan.” He takes a careful sip of his tea, “You'll have to let me know if anything sticks out, I can point Garcia in their direction.”

“You know I will.” She replies, “And I am going to let you sleep, wherever you are, because you are clearly not at home, or there would have been a string of questions from Haley, or the sounds of a grumpy little boy.” 

He smiles, “It sounds like you could use some sleep as well. I'll let Haley know you're settled in, so she can call herself and ask all those questions. She might even let you talk to Jack.”

"I'll look forward to that, and I'll stay in touch." Megan's laughing as she hangs up and he holds onto that sound for as long as he can, just a brief respite from the case, before he opens the file again. 

-

The apartment isn't a home. 

The first time he'd invited her to stay, when she'd felt like she was being torn apart, she'd walked through the door and almost walked straight back out. It hadn't felt like a home, hadn't felt like it was really his. She remembers his home, the rare dinners with Haley, before, and it had been warm, inviting, where the apartment is cold, barely lived in. It's in mourning just as much as he is, and it makes her chest ache. It had ached even more when she'd realised that the main signs of life were the few toys left by Jack, during his all too rare visits to his father. 

This time, with no home of her own and using a collection of carefully selected stuff from her LA apartment that she could do without, she adds a little life to it. Never when he's around, through one time she lets Jack steal a cushion for the couch. It's easier, if neither of them actually say it, if she just steers her friend the way he needs to go, to finally start laying down roots in his not so new reality. She even reaches out to Haley, claims a few extra pieces to scatter around the space.

She spends more time in the apartment than he does, and she works hard at leaving messes between college interviews and apartment hunting. She remakes her memories of the place, overriding the night she'd spent, half broken on his couch while he read a random law journal to her, after. It's always strange, how an hour with someone, telling her about things that are half nonsense to her helps. With Larry it's science, with Aaron it's always been advanced legal texts. It helps that they both warm to their topics, the passion she's lacking leaking in, bracing her. 

She'd never been more grateful of his support, of his anger that she'd been forced to do that work. They both knew, why, that it had at least partly been because of Gideon's notes in her file that she was picked, and the other reasons remain just as unspoken. 

Now, with the time that's past and the battles she's waged, she doesn't regret resigning from the FBI. Even though she does regret leaving the family she'd made herself. 

Larry calls every week, and she's always amazed, and humbled that he doesn't mention his work with the FBI unless she asks. She's happy to hear stories about his co-workers, and to hear that her people are OK. It helps that, sometimes, Aaron and Larry talk on the phone as well, her chosen family connecting, just as important as her blood family.

Aaron asks the occasional question, between stories about Doctor Reid, and they start a running comparison between geniuses, ending with an agreement that the two should only meet in a controlled situation, not during a tense case. It's a surprise, in some ways, that it's Aaron's Garcia who knows the CalTech group, not Doctor Reid, but in som ways it's a blessing.

It's two months before she finalises it all, jokingly giving Aaron notice in a text message while he's on a case. He answers by sending her a house warming card, which arrives a few hours before he gets back, catching her as she finishes packing the things she's taking. Happy that the lack of her stuff doesn't empty the apartment of the feeling of home that finally building.

They barely talk, he just helps carry her stuff out to her car and then hugs her, maybe a little harder than he needs to. She drives off, headed across town, leaving him to finally get some sleep after another hard week. She could never be a replacement for Haley, they were never that, he's the brother she never had, and that means something more to the both of them. She's happy, as she starts down her own new path, that he seems to be moving on, accepting the changes, and she's confident they'll both survive. And it's nice too, to know that he isn't far away.

-

It's cool, the day's heat finally easing as they reach the lookout. 

They haven't talked much on the way up, taking the time to relax, to feel the freedom from their burdens, just for these few hours. The only other people they've seen have been other hikers, out enjoying the weather. There's so much open space, so much more room to breath than back at home.

They sit and eat, but she can only let the silence drag out for so long. Can only hold back the questions for so long. 

“She isn't dead is she?”

He stills for a moment, then sighs, shoulders sagging, “No, but the world needs to think she is.”

Megan watches him carefully, tapping her knee, weighing his behaviour. She knows she needs to tread lightly, “Do any of your team know?”

He shakes his head. “Only JJ, and she's....” Megan winces, remembering her own DOJ assignment, and the strained phone call of just a few months ago. They both know that the younger woman isn't where everyone is claiming she is. It's the other weight, slowly waring on him, even through they both know he'd done all he could. 

“That sucks.” Megan replies.

Aaron laughs, with just the slightest bitter edge, “I had to do their grief assessments.” The words are sharp and his hands are shaking. She reaches out, gripping his shoulder, “They're struggling.”

She dare not point out that they aren't alone. He knows, or they wouldn't be where they are. “But she's safe.” It's not a question. 

He smiles, nodding, “She's alive and safe, and I don't think she'll have to hide for long.”

“Morgan?” It's an easy guess, even from her limited interactions with the man.

Aaron nods, “He thinks I don't know.” There's a wry twist to his lips. So many people tend to misjudge him, even after years of knowing him. 

Megan snorts, “He looses points for that.”

Aaron almost smiles again, then closes his eyes instead, tilting his head back, soaking in the sun. His shoulders slump just a little more. “I'm sorry, I just....”

Megan punches him gently in the arm, “No apologies, I get it. You needed to talk to someone, outside of the circle, that you trust. It's one hell of a weight to carry.”

He opens his eyes, smiles at her, “It's almost too heavy some days.”

She grins, “Careful, or I'll tell Larry you said that, he'll give you a long lecture on the physics of matter, or some such.”

Aaron shakes his head, shoulders just a little looser. “Thanks.”

“You're my friend, no thanks needed.” She heistated for a moment, "And if you need to talk, no matter what, I'm here." She's firm, maintaining eye contact, "Anytime it's feels too much, just, call, ok?" He nods, "I know Megan," he smiles fondly, "why do you think we're here?"

-

It's early evening and they're in their favourite cafe. It's not a place that her students would visit, no wifi, no effort to keep up with the fads. It's away from work for both of them, quiet, with excellent service and a supply of their favourie drinks and treats. Tonight it's hot drinks and desert, with some deep conversation mixed in. 

“She left.” He says the words he's been building to for over an hour. She'd been waiting for it, since the text that had let her know the weight was mostly off his shoulders. Since she'd started counting the days until the BAU would finish eating up another woman.

“You knew she wouldn't stay.” Megan replies. 

Aaron sighs, nods, empties his cup and reaches for the pot. “I expected it just, I thought it would be earlier and when she got through that hump, I thought it would be a year.” One finger taps against the side of the pot, "Maybe two." It's almost wistful.

Megan shrugs, “She's always defied your expectations.”

He snorts, nods, “True.” The pause is weighed, he stirs his tea and she waits. “You could come back. You could try being in the BAU.”

“I appreciate the thought, but I am done with the FBI.” She answers, taking a bite of her pastry. There's nothing more to say, and she knows that he'd never really expected her to say yes. He's known her too long, seen her broken by the man, seen her rebuild herself. He knows better.

And yet, he still hesitates, gaze shifting to the chain just visible around her neck, “Wormholes?”

She grins, he does know better, “Yup. The time has come and we are about to take our first steps.”

He smiles, looking less tired than he did when he walked in, “I'm happy for you.”

She laughs, shakes her head, "And you will do just fine. You've survived so far Aaron Hotchner." She gives it a moment before she adds, "And I expect you to be around when the time comes, return the favour and be god father."

His smile widens a touch and he nods, "Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hotch does give it a good go to head hunt her ;) - this is old friends who lean on each other Hotch & Megan, hopefully something like you were looking for.


	2. Visitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Season 12 of Criminal Minds - I guess most people know what happened by now, but better safe than sorry!

She shouldn't be here. She ran all of the arguments through her head, but she couldn't let go, couldn't ignore his letters. 

They both know better, but at the same time, she understands that he needs one person he can hold onto. One he can reach out to, can keep, and she's safe. 

At least, as safe as it gets. 

The house is in the suburbs, it doesn't stand out from any of it's neighbours, and it's not somewhere he's likely to be recognised. Big town, but limited CCTV, still a lot of old values held close to people's chests. 

She smiles, glances in the rear view mirror, watching her daughter play with the dinosaurs Larry had solemnly handed over as he bid them goodbye. She takes one deep, cleansing breath, then opens her door. It's automatic, going through all the steps to get herself and her daughter out of the car and onto the pavement in one piece. She can feel the odd curious gaze on them, but nothing that sets off any of the ingrained instincts.

You can take the woman out of the FBI, but you can't take the agent out of the woman. 

Stella grips her hand as they approach the strange house, head bobbing as she tries to take it all in. Megan can't help but laugh, pausing to let her daughter finish her inspection of the new place before she reaches up to knock on the door, only to find it opening already. 

He's grey, though she doubts it's natural, yet, dressed only a little different than Aaron Hotchner would normally dress when off duty. Stella squeaks, recognising him and he braces himself just in time to catch her, laughing as he swings her onto his hip. 

She worries for a moment, because of the running declarations of 'Unca 'Ron' but he shakes his head.

“It sounds like Ryan.” He says, sounding so much more southern than she's heard since the last time he got really drunk, years ago. Before.

He shifts after a moment, Stella still chattering away, and leads the way into a cosy front room, a scattering of planes speaking of Jack's presence.

“That's good,” It feels like an empty comment, awkward, and she hesitates before she continues, “I almost didn't bring her, but I thought it should be a proper visit.” She doesn't mention how worried she'd been, reading the letters that he'd sent. They're both careful, and letters are easier to hide, especially when she's not really on the list people think of when it comes to Aaron Hotchner. Hell there's not even an official computer record of the fact that Aaron's Stella's Godfather. 

“How's Jon?” She asks, using the name he'd given in the letters. Neither is especially different, but it's still jarring, or maybe that's what makes it so jarring. 

“Mostly settled, he's out with friends.” His smile is a little rueful as he gives Stella one last hug before he lets her down, watching as she sets about setting her dinosaurs out on the floor, already chatting away to herself. Ever adaptable, that's her daughter. 

“Thanks for coming, I appreciate it, and I know that it's....”

Megan shakes her head, “If this is for good, not just until,” she tilts her head instead of saying it, “I get it, and I understand wanting to have one thing to hold onto.”

She understands it, with someone else it would concern her, but this is Aaron Aaron Hotchner was his job, and that's gone, he can't go back. Can't go home, can't do the one thing he's worked at for almost his entire life. He needs something to anchor himself, something besides the child he feels he owes. He'll never put that kind of weight on his son, she knows that. So she came. His letters, the stories of a stranger's life, running over and over in her mind.

She can't imagine him, teaching kids, all that focus on normal education instead of profiling and the law. Helping people. Can't imagine the struggle, when he spots something, with a kid or a parent, when he has to hold back. When he can't offer a good explanation to any that question, because who he is now isn't who he was.

If she can help, if she can be the one friend he has, if she can be his bridge into his new world, she doesn't care about bending some rules.


End file.
